Account of a Tour in Normandy, Volume 1 eBook

With this digression I bid farewell to Yvetot, and
its Lilliputian kingdom; nor will I detain you much
longer on the way to Rouen, the road passing through
nothing likely to afford interest in point of historical
recollection or antiquities; though within a very short
distance of the ancient Abbey of Pavilly on the one
side, and at no great distance from the still more
celebrated Monastery of Jumieges on the other.
The houses in this neighborhood are in general composed
of a framework of wood, with the interstices filled
with clay, in which are imbedded small pieces of glass,
disposed in rows, for windows. The wooden studs
are preserved from the weather by slates, laid one
over the other, like the scales of a fish, along their
whole surface, or occasionally by wood over wood in
the same manner. I am told that there are some
very ancient timber churches in Norway, erected immediately
after the conversion of the Northmen, which are covered
with wood-scales: the coincidence is probably
accidental, yet it is not altogether unworthy of notice.
At one end the roof projects beyond the gable four
or five feet, in order to protect a door-way and ladder
or staircase that leads to it; and this elevation
has a very picturesque effect. A series of villages,
composed of cottages of this description, mixed with
large manufactories and extensive bleaching grounds,
comprise all that is to be remarked in the remainder
of the ride; a journey that would be as interesting
to a traveller in quest of statistical information,
as it would be the contrary to you or to me.

Poverty, the inseparable companion of a manufacturing
population, shews itself in the number of beggars
that infest this road as well as that from Calais
to Paris. They station themselves by the side
of every hill, as regularly as the mendicants of Rome
were wont to do upon the bridges. Sometimes a
small nosegay thrown into your carriage announces the
petition in language, which, though mute, is more likely
to prove efficacious than the loudest prayer.
Most commonly, however, there is no lack of words;
and, after a plaintive voice has repeatedly assailed
you with “une petite charite, s’il vous
plait, Messieurs et Dames,” an appeal is generally
made to your devotion, by their gabbling over the
Lord’s Prayer and the Creed with the greatest
possible velocity. At the conclusion, I have
often been told that they have repeated them once,
and will do so a second time if I desire it! Should
all this prove ineffectual, you will not fail to hear
“allons, Messieurs et Dames, pour l’amour
de Dieu, qu’il vous donne un bon voyage,”
or probably a song or two; the whole interlarded with
scraps of prayers, and ave-marias, and promises to
secure you “sante et salut.” They
go through it with an earnestness and pertinacity
almost inconceivable, whatever rebuffs they may receive.
Their good temper, too, is undisturbed, and their
face is generally as piteous as their language and
tone; though every now and then a laugh will out,